


Wake Up and Smell the Cherry Blossoms

by Hinalilly



Category: Free!, High☆Speed!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Fluff and Feels, M/M, lots and lots of fluff, plus a lot of headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:51:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1875450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinalilly/pseuds/Hinalilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haruka absolutely did <em>not</em> want to get involved with the new transfer student. (… so why was he still hanging out with him?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake Up and Smell the Cherry Blossoms

**Author's Note:**

> For [Haru's Birthday Bash](http://harusbirthdaybash.tumblr.com) on tumblr! Writing HS!Haru is both the best and worst thing in the world, but I'm very happy with how it turned out! Writing little Rin and Haru is one of my favorite things in the world, after all. Hope you all like it as much as I do!
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARU!!

 

 

He should’ve known it would be a long day the moment he spotted a flash of red hair among the shelves littered with vegetables.

He hadn’t even made it to the first item on his list yet, but he still turned around immediately, his pace fast and firm as he headed towards the exit, fully intent on pretending it had been a mirage, or a hallucination, or a weirdly vivid daydream.

“Ah! Nanase!”

He must have been hearing things. There was no way that his luck could be so foul so as to put _him_ , of all people, on his path, so soon, and so _early_ in the afternoon.

Maybe if he walked fast enough, he could pretend he hadn’t heard a thing.

“Nanase, wait up!”

A tug on his sleeve, and Haruka wondered what was the appropriate timeframe during which the ‘you’ve got the wrong person’ excuse could still be used effectively. But the smile that was burning a hole into the back of his skull told him that there was no time, no mirage, no hallucination, and _definitely_ no daydream involved.

A very vivid _nightmare_ , that’s what it was.

Haruka had resigned himself to a difficult school term the moment Matsuoka Rin had introduced himself in front of his classroom. He hadn’t, however, expected it to get so _personal_.

 

* * *

 

Matsuoka was a pain.

Haruka didn’t care for anything other than swimming. By himself, for himself. He just wanted to feel the water. He wasn’t interested in any relay or team or whatever it was that Matsuoka was trying to force him into. He just wasn’t interested. It wasn’t for him.

Swimming was an individual sport. Team or no team, once you dived into the water, you were on your own. Him and the water, they had always understood each other, accepted each other. He didn’t need Matsuoka barging in and disrupting that harmony.

And yet there he was, unsettling the flow between his lane and Haruka’s, sending tangible sparks of energy between them with each stroke, each kick, and Haruka was pulled into the rhythm as if by gravity itself. Except the pull came from _Matsuoka_ , and Haruka _hated_ that.

He had no right to rile him up like that. Haruka wasn’t interested in racing. He just wanted to swim.

 

* * *

 

Haruka stood dumbfounded at his door, eyebrows raised at the red-haired boy that stood just outside of it, hands in his pockets and a really big grin on his face.

“Hey, Nanase! You’re at home!” Matsuoka smiled brightly, trying to sound casual (but Haruka wasn’t fooled.)

_No kidding_ , Haruka thought, a frown finding his way onto his face. “What do you want?”

“Aw, really?” Matsuoka scratched his neck, shaking his head, and eyes closed in faked disappointment. “No ‘hey, Matsuoka, nice seeing you around here’ or anything?”

Haruka only frowned harder, the ‘no’ imprinted in his eyes. In return, Matsuoka raised his arms apologetically, smiling a little more sheepishly this time.

“I was just wondering if you could show me around,” he spoke so casually that Haruka had to wonder if he had actually heard him right. There was no way this was happening. “You helped me around the other day— at the market, remember?” Yes, Haruka remembered. He remembered trying to shove him off and ending up pointing Matsuoka towards the best fish market in town, instead. He’d agreed only so he would shut up and leave him alone, but Haruka should’ve known that no small gesture was ever enough for someone like Matsuoka. “And I’m kinda new here, so…”

“Find someone else,” Haruka cut in quickly, sliding the door shut before Matsuoka could protest.

Haruka really needed a bath.

 

* * *

 

Haruka should’ve known better than to expect Matsuoka to give up. He had been a bit surprised, however, and had thus allowed himself to let his guard down, when Matsuoka did not bring it up again the next day at school. (He still would not shut up about the relay, though.)

What a mistake.

He ran onto him while shopping, again, and Matsuoka was quick to stick to him, chatting his ears off about how nice the lady at the fish market was, and how it was much better and cheaper than the one in the next town, and practically begging Haruka to show him some other place next.

“You were drawing today in class again, weren’t you, Nanase?” Haruka shot a glance at the shelf, and then at his hand, and he realized he had picked the wrong seasoning. He quickly switched it with the correct one with a rough sigh. “You could help me! I need a few more notebooks for class, and I don’t know where—”

“I’m busy,” Haruka blurted out, turning sharply towards him. Matsuoka looked startled for a second, but his expression morphed into realization when he saw Haruka’s gaze fixed on the sesame oil that was on the shelf right behind him. He grinned, picking a bottle and handing it over to Haruka in a flash.

“Is that it? What else are we getting?”

_What_.

Haruka would’ve emptied the bottle on Matsuoka’s head if he didn’t actually need it to cook dinner.

“There’s no _we_.” He huffed, turning away again to resume walking through the aisles of the supermarket. “You’re in the way.”

“Huh?” Matsuoka immediately looked sideways, towards the shelves beside each of them, as if wondering what product Haruka needed to pick up next.

No. Matsuoka could _not_ be seriously thinking of sticking around until he was done shopping, could he.

“I doubt you need any of these,” Matsuoka said, making a playful grimace at the various bottles littering the shelves. He doubted Matsuoka knew the first thing about cooking, but sadly, Haruka did not, in fact, need any more items from that aisle, and he couldn’t stall forever. “Let’s hurry so you can show me around!”

He wanted to stall forever _so badly_.

 

* * *

 

Matsuoka ran back home from the swim club every day.

Boasting about his race times, relentlessly trying to convince people to join a relay that nobody wanted any part in, acting like he owned the place and the pool and the water, and having everyone follow him and talk to him and flock around him like he was the best thing to have happened to Iwatobi in years (Haruka wished Makoto would stop acting so friendly with him, didn’t he realize he was dragging Haruka into it as well?). _What a showoff_.

Haruka had never been very fond of land training. It seemed like such a waste, when he could just as well be using that time to be in the water.

But Haruka ran, too.

 

* * *

 

Haruka should’ve run sooner. He should’ve never caved in and helped Matsuoka in the first place. He wasn’t obliged to, even if they were classmates, so he should’ve just said no and walked away.

But Haruka _hated_ the gnawing feeling that bubbled inside him when he spotted him speaking to a nearly-deaf old lady, he _hated_ how each step he took to get away from him as fat as possible made something heavy and uncomfortable settle in his gut. Matsuoka wasn’t stupid. He could find his way around without Haruka’s help. It wasn’t like he was going to end up stranded in the middle of the town if Haruka didn’t point him in the right direction.

Haruka gritted his teeth upon hearing Matsuoka’s fifth attempt at getting the old lady to hear him, and he turned on his heel, walking briskly towards him, and yanked him away by the arm before he could start shouting again.

“Wh— _Nanase!?_ ” Matsuoka almost tripped on his own feet, but he quickly steadied himself to walk beside Haruka, and as soon as they’d made it to the corner, Haruka released his wrist, pointing to the left.

“The station is that way,” he said bluntly, and then began retracing his steps to head back home, without waiting for a reply.

“Wha—wait, wait a second!”

Haruka didn’t wait, but Matsuoka was walking beside him again in a blink, anyway. He didn’t ask how Haruka knew where he wanted to go, or why he was there, or why he had stepped in to help him. Haruka was a little glad for it, because he didn’t really care to answer the first two questions, and he had no idea what to say about the third.

“You know a good sports shop around here, don’t you?”

Haruka’s lip twitched.

 

* * *

 

“Do you know how to make flower crowns, Nanase?”

Haruka didn’t even acknowledge that question with an answer. He simply kept walking, silently hoping that Matsuoka would get so entranced in the flower shop display that he could successfully lose him in the crowd.

Haruka should stop humoring him, already. He’d never rid himself of the red-headed pest otherwise. But Matsuoka seemed to be _everywhere_ , and everywhere he went Haruka’s eyes would zero in on him, spotting him instantly, without fail. It annoyed him _so_ much.

“You know what would be really cool?” Haruka sighed and turned his gaze to the side. There were way too many people on the street. He wished Matsuoka hadn’t insisted to take this route today. “An olive wreath! I bet you could make one.”

_I bet you wouldn’t shut up if I did_ , Haruka thought to himself. There was absolutely no point to this kid, and Haruka didn’t care to figure him out. He felt exhausted simply by being forced to stare at him grinning 24/7, clinging to him, blabbering until Haruka wished he could just tear his own ears off and jump into the nearest body of water. He could stand dealing with Matsuoka as long as he had water. Even if Matsuoka insisted on taking over the pool and the swim club and Haruka’s own life, he could never snap the connection that Haruka had with it.

“Ah! Hold on a sec!”

Haruka watched as Matsuoka sprinted towards a vending machine, and wondered how many steps he could take before Matsuoka could realize he had been ditched. But Matsuoka’s voice boomed shamelessly through the packed street, and Haruka hoped nobody had noticed that _he_ had been the one walking with him until now.

“Is water okay for you?” The smile on Matsuoka’s face was so natural that Haruka couldn’t be sure if he was just teasing him or was actually being serious.

He would _so_ ditch him next chance he got.

 

* * *

 

Haruka didn’t even have to look at their times to know he had won by the breadth of a hair. It was enough with feeling Matsuoka’s cocky grin trained on the back of his head, with the way in which his every muscle seemed to tingle with the aftermath of the race, with how the back of his mind kept urging him to dive back into the pool.

Haruka yanked his swim cap and goggles off, and stormed off to the showers in silence.

 

* * *

 

Haruka stared blankly at the cup of hot chocolate sitting in front of him. He hadn’t ordered it, he certainly hadn’t asked for one, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was even thirsty in the first place. But Matsuoka had insisted they stop at that particular coffee shop that afternoon (something about trying different popular spots, or whatever), and he had ordered everything as if he knew the menu by heart or something.

And now he wouldn’t stop _talking_.

“The flowerbed project is shaping up nicely, huh… I still can’t believe you went with _my_ idea back then!” He laughed in between bites of his sandwich, and Haruka noticed there were small bits of bread sticking to the sides of his mouth. “I would’ve never taken you for that kind of guy, Nanase!”

Haruka scoffed. _You do realize you’re calling yourself a romantic with that as well, do you_.

“But then you go and do _that_ and, wow, we have a lot more in common than I thought!”

_Please stop talking_ , Haruka frowned, hunching his shoulders and hiding his pout behind his mug (he sniffed his drink for added measure). Why was Matsuoka bringing this back now? Haruka hadn’t voted for his idea him solely for the sake of agreeing with him. He had just wanted to leave the cherry blossom tree undisturbed. And with the way in which Matsuoka’s eyes had looked at him so eagerly, Haruka had decided to go along with him, if only just so he wouldn’t _stare_ at him like that anymore.

It was a pointless discussion. Their class had already decided to go with Yazaki’s idea. So there was no point in dwelling in the past.

“Next thing I know, _you’ll_ be asking _me_ to join the relay!” Matsuoka laughed again, and Haruka guessed it was because even _he_ could see what a ridiculous thing he was saying.

There was no way Haruka would share the water with _him_. There was no way he would swim in the same lane with such an annoying, embarrassing, bothersome guy.

Fate chose that moment to have their eyes lock, and Haruka could read the question in Matsuoka’s gaze with little effort.

“I told you I only swim free,” he said, and took a sip of his drink.

 

* * *

 

Haruka began to wonder if there had been some fine print he’d missed.

He was pretty certain Matsuoka only required being shown around Iwatobi, and yet Haruka now found himself trapped between a grumpy businessman and Matsuoka himself, sitting on the return train to town.

“Maaaaan, he totally should’ve kissed her!”

Haruka tried to tune out Matsuoka’s whining, but it was impossible, especially with how close to his ear his voice was, and with how wide his gestures were in the limited space they had to themselves. Haruka didn’t understand what he could possibly be so angry about. It was just a movie.

He regretted the day he had allowed Matsuoka to hang out around him.

(On second thought, he didn’t really remember agreeing to any of it in the first place. Perhaps he was still in time to lose him in the crowd—it was too bad that he could barely move at the moment.)

“Who cares if he couldn’t get her the ring? He could’ve just kissed her and that would’ve been enough!”

Haruka didn’t know what was so special about romance movies. He thought they were pretty boring. It seemed like such a waste of time to spend hours of his life watching two people go through series after series of either comical or dramatic misunderstandings, when _everyone_ knew they would eventually end up together, one way or another (and it was even worse when the writers teased the audience with a _sequel_ ). And yet Matsuoka had been so into it; Haruka had never seen him so focused on anything that wasn’t swimming before.

“What do you think, Nanase?”

Haruka spared him a fleeting glance, and then turned his eyes back to his feet.

“… I’ll choose the movie next time.”

Matsuoka’s whine was so loud that a few passengers turned around to stare at them. He immediately turned very red, laughed, and began talking about how his legs _really_ hurt from sitting around all day.

(But Haruka wasn’t fooled.)

 

* * *

 

“Heh! I’ll show you what a _really_ cool snowman looks like!”

Haruka shook his head and continued to work on his own snow figure in silence. Nagisa’s loud cheering livened up the cold exterior of the swim club, while Matsuoka kept bragging about how utterly amazing his snow shark would look once it was finished. He would knock Nanase’s dolphin out of the water, he said.

_You wish_ , Haru thought, working a little bit harder, and smoothing the snow out with his gloved hands.

Makoto began laughing, and Haruka frowned at him.

 

* * *

 

“ _Achoo!_ ”

Matsuoka’s sneeze was loud, and Haruka hoped the boy had tissues somewhere.

“My hairdryer broke,” he explained, and Haruka dutifully ignored it, because he hadn’t asked. “I can still swim though! It’s not a cold.” His proud grin was sullied by the faint redness on the tip of his nose, and Haruka _almost_ snorted.

Matsuoka rubbed his hands together, sighing as he looked up towards the late afternoon sky.

“Aaah, it’s really cold today,” he huffed through the scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, and Haruka tried not to think of Yazaki’s now no-longer-white muffler. Would Matsuoka also end up in the hospital if he tried swimming with a fever? (Haruka hated hospitals. He hoped Matsuoka wouldn’t be stupid enough to end up dragging him back into one.) “I should’ve brought my gloves.”

Haruka stole a glance at his own hands, safely covered in mittens (he would’ve picked something more comfortable if he had had any intention of going out but, as usual, Matsuoka had caught him off guard), and silently wondered what kind of gloves Matsuoka preferred. With how much he flailed his arms around, he probably liked wearing something he could move more freely in—

Matsuoka gasped, and Haruka stopped to stare at him, startled on his tracks. Before the very thought of wondering if something was wrong could cross his head, Matsuoka had already turned towards him with a bright grin on his face.

“I know! Let’s go get ramen!” His eyes seemed to sparkle as he looked ahead, grabbing Haruka by the wrist to pull him along. “I found this really cool place the other day, we should totally check it out!”

Haruka didn’t really want ramen, but it would be too much of a bother to try and yank his hand away now. It was infinitely better than having Matsuoka suggest crashing at _his house_ for dinner, after all.

It didn’t look like he had a fever, anyway.

 

* * *

 

Matsuoka was doing a pretty good job at pretending he wasn’t scared. Maybe he wasn’t, but that’s not why Haruka had picked this particular movie in the first place. He had honestly hoped that the screams from the rest of the theater would be enough to spare him from Matsuoka’s commentary.

Now he had a different problem.

Matsuoka was huddled against the armrest between their seats, his shoulder pressed flush against Haruka’s. He kept leaning his head towards him, whispering things like ‘that blood looked so real!’ and ‘you really shouldn’t do that in the middle of a zombie attack’. It wasn’t the words that bothered him; Haruka’s plan hadn’t completely backfired, after all, since he could barely hear Matsuoka over the loud gunshot noises and the screams from people in the audience. But—

“Wah!”

Matsuoka squeaked with a smile on his face, throwing his arms around Haruka, and pulling him into a tight hug. When Haruka opened his mouth to protest, he was simply hugged even tighter. Matsuoka’s eyes were wide and there was a huge grin on his face as he watched the bloodshed on screen, but at one point he turned away and towards Haruka, burying his face on his shoulder, and squeaked again.

This was totally _not_ worth sneaking into a restricted movie, at all.

Haruka sighed and continued to stare at the screen, thankful that the background noise was the least comfortable environment for thought.

The sounds of crushed bones and blood spatters eventually died down, and Matsuoka’s head lifted from Haruka’s shoulder very slowly, a smile still present on his face.

“Wow, that was _really_ scary,” he whispered, and Haruka frowned at him in the darkness.

 

* * *

 

“Feeling better?”

That was the first thing Matsuoka had said in the entire afternoon. Haruka pretended not to have heard, but they both knew he was simply refusing to admit he might need rest.

“Sorry about that,” Matsuoka had both arms behind his neck, and he walked more slowly than usual, which was odd, since the street was rather empty. Haruka frowned. He had no right to apologize. It was _his_ fault that Haruka had gone down with a cold, after all. Besides, Haruka was perfectly fine. He didn’t need Matsuoka babying him any more than he needed rest. He was fine. He could swim, so he was fine.

Matsuoka was silent again, letting his arms hang again as they walked quietly, side by side. Haruka could see the puffs of air in front of his own face, and he didn’t doubt that Matsuoka could hear his unusually labored breathing, too. When he sighed loudly, Haruka was tempted to steal a glance at him. (He did.)

“Aah, I don’t feel like going shopping now,” Matsuoka’s head hung to the side for a moment, but he straightened up quickly, smiling in Haruka’s direction. “Mind if I crash at your place tonight?”

Haruka frowned, turning his eyes back to the empty sidewalk.

Matsuoka was stupid. He was perfectly fine.

 

* * *

 

Haruka wished he could fake sickness just so Matsuoka would go back to being (moderately) quiet again. But he kept going on and on about this new book he was reading on swimming records, and Haruka concluded that, no matter how much theory he could cram into his head, Matsuoka had yet to memorize that Haruka could care less about times.

The streets were crowded again, but Matsuoka had said something about wanting to check out shops that sold good candy, and Haruka scowled when a couple bumped into him, glaring at them as they walked past, all smiles and giggles and shoving each other playfully.

“Hey! Watch it!” Matsuoka yelled at them with a pout on his face (which was pointless, seeing as the two lovebirds were paying attention to nobody other than each other). Haruka simply resumed walking like nothing had happened, with Matsuoka quickly falling into step with him.

They were both quiet for a moment, and Haruka noticed that Matsuoka had not stopped pouting. He decided to focus his eyes on the crowd, instead, making sure to keep a safe distance from other distracted people. He really didn’t like crowds, and the fact that it was Matsuoka’s fault that he was currently stuck in the middle of one only made him feel even more aggravated about it than usual.

“Nanase.”

That one quiet mention of his name was the only warning Haruka got before Matsuoka’s gloved hand clasped his own. (Haruka was right. He didn’t wear mittens, after all.)

“Stay close to me, okay?”

Haruka scowled, choosing to ignore the fierce determination in Matsuoka’s eyes, and decided to stare at a very cheesy, romantic display at the front of a chocolate shop instead.

_What an embarrassing guy_.

They walked up and down the road a few times, and Haruka wasn’t surprised when Matsuoka picked that very store to walk into.

 

* * *

 

Matsuoka was awfully quiet while he watched the sunset. Haruka didn’t know why he wanted to do that, nor why _he_ had to sit there with him, either. He thought their agreement was limited to going around places, not sitting still doing… nothing at all.

Matsuoka chuckled, and Haruka stared at him in indignation. There was absolutely nothing funny about this situation at all.

“I thought you liked the water, Nanase,” Matsuoka smiled, still looking out towards the ocean. “No need to look so angry!” He laughed, and Haruka glared at his own feet in response, digging his sneakers a little deeper into the sand.

If he concentrated hard enough, he could probably ignore the closeness of Matsuoka’s hand, right next to his own.

“Hey, Nanase?”

… Matsuoka was so _impossible_ to ignore.

“Let’s hold hands!”

His laughter sounded a little bit more nervous than usual, and Haruka’s frown deepened, because Matsuoka’s skin had sand sticking all over it.

 

* * *

 

Haruka wondered why he hadn’t stopped it the first time. Knowing Matsuoka, it would’ve been the wisest (and only) way to go. But Haruka hadn’t stopped him, and now Matsuoka had made it a habit of his to reach for Haruka’s hand without warning. Haruka had noticed he’d do it only on very crowded or very empty roads, and he wondered if Matsuoka ever realized what a weird and pointless thing that was. Haruka had yet to ditch him even once, after all (he’d stopped thinking about it eventually, he realized, now that the idea had crossed his mind again), and Matsuoka could already maneuver himself around town perfectly on his own without Haruka there to give him directions (Haruka had his doubts that Matsuoka had _ever_ needed his help, actually).

… so why _was_ he still walking around with Matsuoka, then?

“You still won’t join the relay, Nanase?”

Haruka yanked his hand out of Matsuoka’s grip.

“Sheesh,” Matsuoka chuckled, scratching his neck and looking out towards the ocean. There was a strange, almost adult-like expression on his eyes when he dropped his arms at his sides again, and a small, bittersweet smile on his lips. Haruka looked away. He decided it was in his best interests to ignore it. “It was just a question.”

He ditched Matsuoka for the first time that day.

 

* * *

 

“It looks great.”

Yazaki’s voice brought Haruka back from his dreamland, and he felt like he had been caught staring. He hadn’t really cared for the flowerbed at all, but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t done a conscious job while building it. The messages on the bricks looked colorful and full of hope, and Haruka found himself unconsciously staring at the one that he recognized as his own.

_Free_.

Pressed up like it was in between all the other bricks, it didn’t look free at all. Haruka felt a little sympathy, for both his brick and the cherry tree, both now bound to others indefinitely, just like he was.

Haruka’s eyes wondered to the brick right next to his, and his shoulders fell a little when he realized who it belonged to. It was just like Matsuoka to write gibberish in a foreign language. It was supposed to be a message for the future; couldn’t he at least write something that others would actually understand?

He immediately tensed up again upon hearing Yazaki’s soft giggle over his shoulder.

It was her who had handed the bricks to him while he had been working. She had totally done that on purpose—but complaining would only make his noticing it even more obvious than it already was.

So Haruka pretended he hadn’t noticed a thing.

 

* * *

 

“Come on, please? Just this once?” He knew Matsuoka was lying. He had no real reason to stay overnight at Haruka’s house, and Haruka had no intention of letting him stay, either. He turned away, and Matsuoka whined loudly at him. Haruka hated it when he did that in places where other people might hear. “ _Haruuuuuuuuuu!_ ”

Letting out a long sigh, Haruka turned his eyes even further away, trying (in vain) to tune Matsuoka’s protests out. It wasn’t like he was being serious. Both of them knew that Matsuoka’s only reason to complain endlessly was simply because he was thoroughly enjoying repeating it over and over again (but he’d gotten it right in one try, and Haruka had no excuse to be angry at him now).

_Haru this, Haru that, Haru, Haru, Haru_.

“Haru, are you even listening to me?”

He silently cursed the day when he’d accepted to join the relay team.

He’d never be free from Matsuoka now.

 

* * *

 

“Nanase-kun!”

Haruka did not pause his movements until all his belongings were stored in his bag, and then lifted his eyes to catch Yazaki standing by his desk with a smile on her face. He turned to stare towards the window, and she followed his gaze.

“Where’s Tachibana-kun?” she asked. The afternoon sun made her smile look a lot sweeter than usual. Haruka stole a glance towards Makoto’s empty desk, a frown finding his way onto his face. He just _had_ to have been asked by some girls from another class for a word or two. Makoto was usually the one who took care of these things, and now Haruka had been left with no choice but to take part in the conversation. “Well, it doesn’t matter.”

Haruka raised his eyes to spot Yazaki digging through her own things, and taking out a small bag, tied with a little blue ribbon. Her smile didn’t change as she handed it to Haruka.

“My team got together the other day to make these. Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Haruka took the bag without a word, not stopping to wonder what might be inside. He wasn’t particularly for or against chocolate either way, so he accepted it with a small nod, and said nothing.

“I have one for Tachibana-kun, too, but it seems someone beat me to it.” She gave out a little laugh, taking out another identical bag, tied with a green ribbon, and offered it to Haruka as well. “Could you give it to him for me? I’d rather not do it at the club.” Haruka nodded silently again, wondering briefly why she might not want to hand it over herself later (he eventually concluded that it wasn’t that big of a deal, so it didn’t matter, as long as the little package reached the right hands). Yazaki’s team had been very focused on their practice lately, so perhaps she just wanted to get rid of any distractions before she headed to the pool. Whether he cared for the practice or not, Haruka thought that was a wise decision.

Yazaki gave him a brief goodbye, and disappeared behind the classroom door, leaving Haruka on his own, with two bags of chocolate treats on his hands.

 

* * *

 

“Did something happen between you and Matsuoka-kun?”

Haruka stared off to the side, sparing only a fleeting glance towards Yazaki, who sat beside him on the bench overlooking the swimming pool, a towel on her shoulders.

Too many things happened when hanging around Matsuoka for too long, and Haruka was no stranger to this. He already had more than enough with him sticking around him all the time, putting his arm around his shoulder, dragging him places, trying to get into his head.

He couldn’t recall anything that would be of particular interest, though.

“He kept staring at you all day. You two didn’t get into a fight, did you?”

Haruka’s gaze moved to his bare feet, and from there back to the pool, a bit farther away, where Matsuoka was scrutinizing and making needless criticism of Makoto’s and Nagisa’s exchange. Haruka hoped his silence would be enough to convey that yes, he had noticed, and that no, he had no idea why.

“It looked like he wanted to talk to you about something.”

He didn’t really care; Matsuoka seemed to stare at him every day, anyway. The reason didn’t matter, as long as he didn’t go out of his way to bother Haruka about the relay, or bringing down his time, or whatever he seemed interested in at the moment. He just wished Yazaki would stop looking at him like _he_ was the one at fault, like he had to _do_ something. If Matsuoka had a problem with him, then it was of no concern to Haruka. Matsuoka could do as he pleased; he always did, anyway.

"You should probably talk to him.” She spoke quietly, almost in an amused tone.

_Why don’t you talk to him instead_ , Haruka thought dryly. He shot another glance at the lane where the others were practicing, his frown deepening upon noticing the uncharacteristic stiffness of Matsuoka’s stroke, but otherwise said nothing. He simply made to stand up, placing his goggles and swim cap back in place, with a lingering thought about Matsuoka bothering him in the back of his mind.

 

* * *

 

Haruka hadn’t been surprised when the doorbell had rung, much less when he had found Matsuoka standing behind the door.

“Yo, Haru.”

He seemed just as loud and as annoying as always, trying to grin his way into Haruka’s life like he had done since day one.

“There’s somewhere I want to go today. Join me?”

And yet there was something about him that seemed strangely… off.

Haruka couldn’t stand Matsuoka, but he hated the fact that he could notice those little things a lot more as of late.

 

It was starting to get dark, and it was cold, but Matsuoka didn’t seem to mind as they walked uphill, away from the town. Matsuoka kept rubbing his hands together, his eyes focused more on the soon-to-be evening sky overhead than on the road right in front of them.

“You cold?”

Haruka glanced at him quickly, then looked ahead immediately again, arms hanging loosely at his sides. He wasn’t surprised when Matsuoka’s fingers boldly reached for his hand, nor when their fingers entwined almost on reflex. He did, however, turn to stare at the redhead when he didn’t grin as usual, when his smile was a little bit weaker, sheepish, even, and when he didn’t immediately start swinging their arms childishly to the beat of an unfamiliar song. Haruka kept his gaze steady, waiting for the inevitable moment when Matsuoka’s lips would part with a long-winded explanation about his current mood, but nothing happened. Instead, they walked in silence, the afternoon turning into evening, and the sounds of the town disappearing behind the quiet roll of the ocean waves.

Matsuoka finally disentangled their joined hands when they reached the viewpoint on top of the hill, skipping ahead to take a seat, hands in his pockets and feet swinging in the air. Haruka sat beside him, not close enough that their arms would touch, but not far enough that they couldn’t be thought of sitting together.

He had never realized when this sort of thing had started to become a pattern, but now that he did, he couldn’t help but notice that the distance between him and Matsuoka had never stopped shrinking.

That was slightly unsettling.

“Haru.”

Haruka turned his head to be met face to face with a brightly colored box being held out towards him. Matsuoka was looking away to the side, eyes closed and a smug grin gradually widening on his lips. Haruka simply raised an eyebrow, staring at the package as if he could discern its contents just by looking at it. A few moments passed and, seeing that the box wasn’t being pried from his hand, Matsuoka’s grin faded and he turned to Haruka with a huff, shoving it so close to his face that Haruka had no choice but to grab it.

“There. Was that so hard?” Matsuoka complained with a small pout, placing both hands behind his neck, and staring out towards the ocean. “Sheesh.”

Haruka stared at the box. He turned it around a few times (and noticed Matsuoka’s eyes on him as he did), but he could not fathom what could be inside. It seemed to be wrapped like a present, but Haruka could think of no reason why Matsuoka would want to give one to him.

“It’s not my birthday yet.” He said, placing the box on his lap, and turning towards the other. Matsuoka laughed, his voice tinkling much more clearly in the night air that it did during the day, and Haruka’s frown intensified. He didn’t like that.

“That’s not it,” Matsuoka managed to speak, between bouts of laugher. Haruka raised an eyebrow again, eyes wondering back to the box, and he began unwrapping it carefully, revealing what was inside at last.

Haruka was confused.

“Matsuoka,” he said blankly, and didn’t miss the look of expectation in the boy’s face, even when his own eyes were still fixed on the item between his hands. “You’re not a girl.”

Matsuoka laughed again, clutching his sides this time, and Haruka frowned all the way until his laughter finally died out.

“Of course not!” He was smiling so brightly, that Haruka had to stop and wonder if this wasn’t some sort of elaborate prank he was not picking up on. But Matsuoka kept talking, and Haruka’s frown only became more pronounced. “It’s usually boys who give out chocolate on Valentine’s Day in other places, you know.”

Haruka frowned. “I’m not a girl, either.”

“I know that!” Matsuoka grinned again, but this time he at least had the decency to look a little flustered. “You’re a boy, and I’m a boy too, so it works!” When Haruka continued to stare at him, Matsuoka stood up, placing both hands on his hips, and paced himself before Haruka like a teacher giving a lecture. “You can accept it, because we’re in Japan, and I—… well!” There was a short pause, during which Matsuoka cleared his throat, and Haruka wished it hadn’t been such a late hour, because he could swear he could see something flickering behind Matsuoka’s eyes at that moment (and he didn’t like that, either). “Bottom line is, it’s not just girls who can give out chocolate during Valentine’s Day, so that means I can do it, too!”

There was a moment of silence, during which Matsuoka seemed to have been expecting some sort of retort from Haruka, but Haruka could do nothing but stare at him in the same incredulous way in which he had the very first time Matsuoka had opened his mouth in front of the class.

The logic was completely flawed and full of holes, and yet Haruka still found himself staring at the box of chocolate in his hand, wondering what kind it might be.

Matsuoka shuffled his feet on the ground, looking out towards the ocean right afterwards.

“You gave some to Makoto, didn’t you? So stop complaining and just take it.”

Haruka looked up, but Matsuoka was still giving his back towards him.

“… It was from Yazaki.”

Haruka didn’t know what possessed him to say that out loud. It’s not like he absolutely _had_ to explain himself to Matsuoka, nor like he couldn’t give chocolates of his own to Makoto if he ever felt like it, anyway (he was glad he wasn’t a girl. The whole Valentine’s Day thing was too much of a bother. And he usually ended up sharing any chocolates he received with Makoto, anyway. He just didn’t care). But when Matsuoka turned around to look at him, the shock of realization was so clear on his face that Haruka almost felt ashamed for him. The expression was quickly replaced by a look of utter embarrassment, and Matsuoka immediately made an effort to smile a little, kicking a stone that was lying there on the ground.

“Heh, White Day must be tough for him, right?”

Haruka didn’t reply. He just went back to stare at the box in his hands.

With a sigh, he pulled it open, finding a single, chocolate tablet inside. It was evidently not homemade, at least, and for some reason Haruka found that to be a slight relief. He didn’t really know why. Without hesitation, he brought it to his lips to take a bite off of it, and was surprised with how the square came off cleanly and without resistance, the texture giving way easily beneath his teeth. The chocolate melted almost instantly in his mouth, in a way that felt just _right_ , the mousse filling sweet but also slightly tinged with bitterness, and try as hard as he might, Haruka couldn’t seem to find the proper word to describe the sensation as a whole. Still tasting it, he raised his eyes to see Matsuoka eyeing him with evident anxiousness, and Haruka juggled some words in his head to try and give him some sort of feedback for the unnecessary gesture. He didn’t want to, but with Matsuoka staring at him like that, Haruka knew he would never be left alone until he said something, anything.

“… it could’ve been worse.”

Relief washed over Matsuoka’s features, and upon seeing the smile on his face, the elusive word popped into Haruka’s head instantly.

_Soft_.

Even as Matsuoka dropped to sit beside him again with a thud, everything around Haruka seemed to have been suddenly placed under a filter, soft and sweet and a little bitter, just like the lingering flavor on his tongue.

“So it’s good, huh? I’m glad!” Matsuoka didn’t look directly at him, so Haruka had no reason to stare, but he still felt compelled to do it anyway. “Remember that store we went to? I haven’t tried everything they have yet, but dark chocolate’s so _good_ , and this one looked better than, I don’t know, strawberry filling or something like that.” Matsuoka laughed a little nervously, making a fake gagging noise and some side comment about Nagisa and sweets that Haruka didn’t pay much attention to. Instead, he focused on the slight crease in Matsuoka’s forehead, on the way his cheeks were slightly dusted pink, and how his smile was pulled up a little bit higher than usual, and perhaps a little bit more forced.

He didn’t like that.

“You didn’t try it?” He asked suddenly, interrupting Matsuoka’s rambling, and the boy turned to him in surprise.

“Huh? No, no I didn’t.” He quickly smiled again, and Haruka could almost feel the confidence brimming from him, as electrifying and as annoying as always. His laughter sounded the same as ever, too, so Haruka could have just brushed it off, if he had wanted to— “But I made sure to pick a really good one! So there was no way you wouldn’t like it.” … and yet something still felt off.

Haruka stared at the chocolate tablet in his hand, and then broke off a piece, offering it to Matsuoka, who blinked back at him like he had grown a third eye or something.

Haruka knew Matsuoka would try to protest, and from the look in his eyes, Matsuoka knew that Haruka would not take no for an answer. Therefore, after a moment of silent agreement, Matsuoka picked up the piece of chocolate from Haruka’s hand, eating it in one go, his lips pulling up into a shy smile.

“It really _is_ good,” he giggled, and Haruka just _had_ to look away.

How could one person be so completely _embarrassing_. He had no clue.

There was also the nagging feeling in Haruka’s chest that now he was obligated to give Matsuoka something in return for White Day.

And he _definitely_ didn’t like that.

 

* * *

 

Haruka was actually trying to concentrate on the assignment, as silly as it was. Writing a graduation essay seemed so completely pointless to him. It was one of those things that he would just shove into a bookcase and never read again in his entire life, but he still tried his best to concentrate. He really did.

It was extremely hard for him to do so with Matsuoka’s constant giggling and muffled squealing coming from behind him.

When his current train of thought was cut for the third time by a little snort, Haruka turned over his shoulder to glare at him, only to find Matsuoka gleefully scribbling over the page with a brilliant grin on his face.

Haruka’s frown intensified, and Matsuoka seemed to have felt the sparks flying in the air, because he immediately snapped his head up towards him, eyes wide in shock and cheeks flaring red as his arms flew over the page to cover it up.

An eyebrow was raised at how Matsuoka mouthed a silent “No peeking” at him, and Haruka turned around to focus on his own page again in annoyance.

_Just shut up and let other people work_ , he thought to himself, words finally starting to flow into the paper. _Nobody’s interested in what you’re writing, anyway_.

He tried his best to ignore the mental image of Matsuoka swimming in the lane beside his as he continued to write.

 

* * *

 

Haruka definitely saw something.

Matsuoka hadn’t been lying, after all.

 

* * *

 

“Well?”

Haruka turned to face Rin, who was still staring at the small buds on the cherry blossom tree. There was a bright, confident smile on his face, and Haruka wondered if he was thinking of his father again. Even though Haruka didn’t say anything, Rin turned to face him as well, almost as if sensing his eyes on him.

“Are you seriously not going to give me anything?” he asked, and Haruka was a little taken aback by it. He didn’t have to say it out loud; the two of them knew exactly what Rin was talking about, and Haruka wished he would leave it alone. “You know, for White Da—”

Haruka huffed angrily, and Rin took the cue to shut up, laughing a little. Just when he thought he had forgotten all about it, too. He didn’t want to be reminded of it again. He didn’t want to owe Rin anything, much less when he was leaving the very next day.

“I didn’t get you anything,” Haruka said plainly, and Rin whined loudly, almost drawing the attention of Nagisa, who was still chasing Makoto and Yazaki while pretending to have a honeybee in his hands.

“That’s why I’m asking,” Rin crossed his arms, a small pout on his face. “I won’t be back for a while, so if you’re going to give me anything, today’s your last chance.”

“… I didn’t get you anything,” Haruka repeated, and Rin’s head hang limp.

“You suck, Nanase.”

Rin was quick to straighten up again, laughing in earnest, and it only made Haruka feel even _more_ annoyed. Maybe he should just rip a blank page of his sketchbook for him. It was white, right? That would count.

Haruka wasn’t supposed to care about these things. But when it came to Rin, it annoyed him that he actually _did_.

“Well, that’s too bad, then,” Rin said again, grinning. “But don’t expect anything for next year!”

Haruka’s eyebrows drew together in a small frown. He could suddenly remember bread crumbs, and pointless romance movies, and being purposefully embarrassed by Rin at the _very moment_ when their winning picture was being taken. So Haruka took a few bold steps, stopped right in front of Rin, and pressed a soft kiss against his lips.

“Don’t expect anything for next year,” he said, and the slack-jawed look of shock that Rin gave him in return was almost comical.

The buds hadn’t bloomed yet, but Haruka could swear he could smell cherry blossoms in the air.

 

* * *

 

Haruka listlessly flipped through the pages of their graduation album. He hadn’t really bothered checking it before; he hadn’t really cared. There were people in his class he would continue to see in middle school, and others he would never see again, so it seemed rather pointless to him as a whole.

But for some reason unknown to him, he now found himself sitting on his bed, flipping page after page until his eyes came across an essay penned by Matsuoka Rin. He didn’t even know why he was bothering to read it. But Rin had been too secretive about it, and now that he wasn’t around to stop him, Haruka was curious to find out what it said.

 

( _“My Shining.”_ )

 

He read it over and over again.

Haruka’s eyes travelled over the printed words, sometimes reading them, sometimes just looking at the shape of the individual letters, squinting his eyes as if there were a secret message hidden between them.

He didn’t see anything.

But he did see Rin’s smiling face in his mind’s eye, and he shut the book immediately.

 

* * *

 

He went back to that essay every single day.

It came to a point where he didn’t even have the need to fetch the book from its shelf, each of the words clear in his memory.

(The memory of Rin’s smile was as fresh as it had always been, too.)

He often wondered if Valentine’s Day was celebrated in Australia as well.

 

* * *

 

 

It had been really cold, and they had both been fresh out of the club showers.

 

It had been the first time Haruka had tried to reach for Rin’s hand out of his own accord, too.

 

But Rin had only yanked his hand away.

 

 

* * *

 

Haruka didn’t want to be a genius. He didn’t want to be talented. He just wanted to swim.

But he couldn’t. Because he’d hurt Rin.

 

* * *

 

True to his promise, he didn’t get anything for Rin the following year. It’s not like he would want to see him, anyway.

Haruka just lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the graduation album forgotten in a corner of the room.

He had no right to miss him.

 

* * *

 

Each time he walked over those railroad tracks, he remembered.

He had no right to, but Haruka still missed Rin.

 

* * *

 

Haruka couldn’t wait to be ordinary.

 

* * *

 

 

That day, at the swim club, Haruka thought he’d seen something. It was too fleeting, and there was simply too much weighing him down for him to swim up to reach towards it.

 

But he couldn’t just let himself sink anymore. Not with Rin swimming in the next lane, stirring the water around him, like so many years ago.

 

(It was unfortunate that he couldn’t know whether Rin had seen something, too, or not.)

 

 

* * *

 

Haruka would never be free from Rin.

(But maybe he didn’t _want_ to.)

 

* * *

 

 

After all those years, Haruka had come to expect that Rin would not take his hand again so easily.

But he still had to try.

What he did find rather strange, however, was the ease with which he found himself offering it to him, neither on a crowded nor an empty street, but under the shade of a tree, with the rest of his team ( _their team_ ) right there with them, watching (watching over them, like always).

There was no anxiousness, no doubt in Haruka’s heart, when Rin turned to face him.

And Haruka could swear, after all that time, he could finally smell cherry blossoms in the air again.


End file.
